


Veritaserum Drunk

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunken Confessions, M/M, Protective Blaise Zabini
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 12:39:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13857954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: Draco is drunk and can't help but tell the truth. His Slytherin friends are out to take advantage of this happy fact.





	Veritaserum Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted February 2, 2014](http://dracogotgame.livejournal.com/072693.html)

Blaise raced into the restaurant, skidding in an effort to avoid bumping into an exiting couple. He nodded his apologies and hurried on, ignoring the maître d. Finally, he caught sight of Pansy’s distinctive black bob in a little nook on the far right and made his way over.   
  
His fellow Slytherins didn’t even acknowledge his presence— something Blaise would normally take offence at. On the other hand, he had been informed that these were extenuating circumstances.  
  
“Yep,” Draco mumbled, nodding placidly and edging his wine glass towards Theo. “Bu’ not when he was Minister ov Magic.”  
  
There was a round of appreciative gasps and giggles. Theo smirked and gamely topped off his friend’s glass. Draco favoured him with a dopey smile and took a swig. Blaise cleared his throat and they turned to him.  
  
“You made it,” Adrian grinned, gesturing for him to sit.  
  
Blaise shrugged. “Well, you did say and I quote— ‘Blaise, you’ll regret every breath you ever take from this moment on if you don’t come down and see this’— unquote.”  
  
“Ay, Blaise’s here!” Draco piped up happily. Blaise only stiffened a bit as Draco reached out to pat him on the head. He miscalculated and ended up swiping Blaise’s face instead. “I like Blaise,” he informed a still grinning Theo. “Nice bloke. Even...even if he’s not  _real_ Italian.”  
  
Blaise’s jaw dropped. “I  _am_  a real Italian, thank you very much!” he snapped indignantly. “I am!” he protested as the rest of the table fixed him with unconvinced glances. “I’ll have you know my family can trace its roots back to sixteenth century Sicily when...”  
  
“Nope,” Draco corrected, waggling a finger in his face. “You jus’ say that ‘cause ya think it sounds cool. Yer dad’s from Wiltshire.”  
  
Blaise scowled at the traitor. “I told you that in the strictest of confidence!” he spat.  
  
“Oh don’t get mad at him, darling,” Pansy smirked. “He’s just veritaserum drunk.”  
  
“You  _drugged_  him?”  
  
“Of course not,” Adrian sniffed. “He did this all by himself.”  
  
Blaise was still confused and Draco was absolutely no help, having decided to forego conversation in order to chase a tomato around his plate with a fork. Theo— ever the smooth voice of reason— stepped in with an explanation. “What Adrian means is that Draco had, well shall we say a  _bit_  more to drink than is advisable. As a result, he’s somewhat...”  
  
“Hammered, sloshed, utterly wasted,” Pansy chirped cheerfully. Her eyes glinted with anticipation. “And here’s the fun part— he’s so far out, he’s having trouble keeping up appearances. You could ask him anything in the world and he’d tell the truth. Blaise,” she lowered her voice to a conspiring whisper and leaned in with a cat like grin. “Draco can’t lie!”  
  
There was silence. Blaise gaped, the others smirked and Draco hummed happily, apparently oblivious of the situation he had put himself in. “He can’t lie,” Blaise clarified, because really wasn’t  _that_  something. “He’s so drunk he’ll tell the truth, no matter what?”  
  
“Anything,” Theo replied. “Think about it, Blaise. We can finally ask him  _all_  those questions he’s skilfully danced around for years. Just think of the possibilities here!”  
  
“It sounds a lot like taking advantage,” Blaise replied uncertainly. “Besides, I don’t think he’s really drunk. He  _couldn’t_  be that far gone. This is Draco we’re talking about.”  
  
“Go on and try it,” Pansy prodded confidently.   
  
It was definitely worth a shot.   
  
“Very well,” Blaise conceded. He cleared his throat and turned to his friend. “Draco?”  
  
“Ay, Blaise’s here! Blaise’s great. Even if he’s not...”  
  
“Yes, we covered that,” Blaise cut in hastily. “Would you mind clarifying something for me? Is your favourite quotation still that one by Machiavelli—  _the end justifies the means_?”  
  
Draco made a face. “Don’ like that one,” he replied firmly. “My  _favourite_  quote thingy is  _sometimes one smile means more than a dozen roses._ ”  
  
The other Slytherins burst into laughter. Blaise nodded decisively and leaned back in his chair. “He’s hammered, all right.” He wasn’t very happy about this but needs must. They  _were_  Slytherins after all, and it was quite the opportunity.  
  
“My turn,” Pansy grinned happily. “Draco, did you really lose your virginity to Viktor Krum in fourth year?”  
  
“Cormac McLaggen, fifth year,” Draco supplied. “He’s gotta tiny willy.”  
  
More giggles and then Theo stepped in. “How much money do you make at the International Affairs Department?” He passed a quill to Draco who obediently scribbled a shaky figure on the tablecloth. Pansy leaned over and gasped.   
  
“ _That_  much?” she shrilled. “You made me foot the bill for drinks last time, you prat! Why should I have to pay when you can bloody well afford it?”  
  
“Pansy, you do realise you’re starting to sound like a prostitute?” Adrian pointed out helpfully.  
  
“Yer not a prostitute,” Draco said, patting her hand.  
  
“No, a prostitute would be cheaper,” Theo observed.  
  
“Depends on th’ prostitute,” Draco supplied.  
  
“Oh, be quiet,” Pansy grumbled. “This isn’t fun anymore.”  
  
“I wouldn’t say that,” Theo grinned. “There’s potential for entertainment. So Draco, mate. Can you tell me who you’ve been mooning over for the past four months? I know there’s someone. But I’d love to know the identity of the mystery man who captured your heart.”  
  
“Hang on,” Blaise began to protest but Draco beat him to it.  
  
“Potter,” he mumbled, gazing at Theo with wide, guileless eyes. “But I don’ think he likes me back.”  
  
“I see,” Theo replied smoothly, patting his shoulder. “Well, why don’t you ask him then? He’s right over there.”  
  
Blaise whirled around to follow the trail of Theo’s finger. Sure enough, Potter was standing by the entrance, apparently requesting a table. Blaise scowled. Having fun was one thing but this was going a bit too far. He had little doubt that Theo already knew Draco had a thing for Potter. He must have noticed Potter and he’d sensed an opportunity to have a laugh at Draco’s expense. Blaise however, was drawing the line. Draco was his best friend, for Merlin’s sake.  
  
“You need to stop,” he whispered to Theo. “What if Potter laughs at him?”  
  
Theo shrugged. “He’ll survive. Besides, he should have thought about that before refusing to invest in my business venture in Mexico.”  
  
So that was what this was about. Petty revenge. Blaise glared but Theo was already back in action. “I’ll just call him over for you, shall I?” he asked Draco sweetly.   
  
Draco nodded like a lost puppy and Theo called out to the man by the entrance.   
  
“Potter! Fancy seeing you here. Come over a second, will you?”   
  
Potter cocked his head curiously, looking over the small company. He caught sight of Draco and the hint of a smile played on his lips. Blaise’s gut clenched uncomfortably as Potter made his way over.  
  
“Well, this is a surprise,” he said, nodding in greeting. “How are you, Malfoy?”  
  
Draco blinked dazedly at him before mumbling a greeting and fiddling with the tablecloth. His cheeks were flushed and he looked uncharacteristically bashful. He was obviously uncomfortable.   
  
“So nice to see you, Potter. Draco just  _had_  to talk to you tonight,” Pansy prodded with a sharp grin. “He’s been going on about you all night.”  
  
“Oh?” Potter smiled at Draco again. “Anything in particular?”  
  
“It can wait,” Blaise replied firmly before Draco could speak. “It was nice seeing you, Potter but we really should...”  
  
“Now, don’t be rude Blaise,” Theo tutted. “Draco  _did_  have something to say to Potter. He just needs a moment to...collect himself.”  
  
Potter frowned at the small company, his eyes drifting from Draco to the other Slytherins. “Am I missing something here?” he asked. Draco mumbled again and Potter leaned over, looking concerned. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Fine,” Draco mumbled. “I jus’...well...”  
  
“It’s all right,” Potter cut in gently as Draco faltered. “You can tell me.”  
  
“I...”  
  
“He can’t lie.”  
  
Every head at the table whipped around to Blaise. Pansy scowled and Theo practically bared his teeth, but Blaise ignored them and focused on addressing Potter. “He’s had a lot to drink,” he explained quietly. “He’s not exactly up to maintaining appearances right now.” Potter’s eyes glinted with sudden understanding. Encouraged, Blaise continued. “If you push him enough, he’ll tell you the truth no matter what.”  
  
It was a gamble, but if he knew Potter at all...  
  
“Let me guess,” Potter gritted, sounding angry now. “You lot have been sitting here bombarding him with questions he wouldn’t normally answer.”  
  
“Wouldn’t you?” Adrian demanded.  
  
“No, I bloody well would not,” Potter snapped. “That’s horrible. You’re supposed to be his friends!” He scowled at them before turning his attention to a very lost Draco again. “Would you like me to take you home?” he asked softly, running a soothing hand down Draco’s back.   
  
Draco flushed, but he nodded slowly and took Potter’s hand. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “Potter, I jus’...just wanted to tell you...”  
  
Potter placed a gentle finger on his lips to silence him. “You can tell me tomorrow when you’re feeling better. Okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Draco mumbled quietly, settling in the crook of Potter’s shoulder. Potter wrapped an arm around him, offered Blaise a terse nod and herded Draco off to safety. Blaise smirked and took a swig from his own glass, smugly ignoring the scowls around his table.  
  
“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Pansy grumbled.  
  
“Some Slytherin you turned out to be,” Theo snapped at him.  
  
Blaise’s eyes glinted as he stared him down. “Let me tell you a little about Slytherins, Theo. We’re smart, ambitious and opportunistic. We sense opportunity and take advantage. But there are rules even we abide by. Here’s one. No matter what, we take care of our own.”  
  
Theo scowled but made no retort having recognized the subtle warning. Blaise leaned forward, the better to emphasize his barely there threat.   
  
“The next time you try to mess with one of  _my_  own, bring your a-game.”  
  
And with that last declaration, he smirked and leisurely poured himself another glass of wine. It was a good year. Besides, he would make certain that Theo footed the bill.   
  
_Not a real Italian_.   
  
Please.


End file.
